For her part, she took up Need with a certain amount of trepidation. Although she felt a kind of tingle when she first set hand to hilt, the sword showed no other signs of life.

Which suited her very well. Over the course of that single night, she’d had her fill of being the tool instead of the wielder.

“Tarma,” she said, hesitantly. “Is this a good idea? I mean, I thought I was supposed to be learning swords- manship, but if I’m going to use Need—”

Tarma chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. First off, you’ll be bouting aginst me, not Daren, and she won’t let you harm a woman. Secondly, she works in peculiar ways. Now that you’ve established your talents as a swordswoman, she’ll never help you fight again. Ah, but magic now, that’s where she’ll protect you. So far as I know, there isn’t a magicker in the world can harm you while you hold her.”

“So that’s how it works,” she murmured without thinking.

“Exactly. That’s why she did both for you when you went after Lordan’s bride; you were neither fish nor fowl yet.” Tarma grinned. “Now, since she’s no more than a very good blade in your hands—defend yourself, girl!”

Blessed Agnira, it’s been a long day. Kero hung her sword in its rack, pulled her armor off and draped it over its stand, and stretched. Tarma was right about having to get used to Need’s weight and balance. There’s a distinct difference between her and that practice blade. She stretched again, reaching for the ceiling, feeling shoulders pop. That hot bath is going to feel so—

She started for the bathing chamber—and realized she was still holding her sword.

That’s odd. She frowned. I could have sworn I hung her up.

She turned back toward the wall rack, and tried to place the sword in its cradle. Tried.

She couldn’t make her hands let go.

“Oh, no you don‘t,” she muttered. “You’ve done that to me once. No more.”

She put the sword in the rack, and concentrated on freeing her left hand, one finger at a time.

Let. Go. Of. Me. She stared at her hand as if it didn’t belong to her, concentrating until she had a headache, a sharp pain right between her eyebrows.

One by one, she loosened her fingers; one by one she pried them off the scabbard. As she released the last of them, she felt something in the back of her mind stretch, and snap.

She pulled her right hand away, quickly, before the sword could take control of her again.